


In better light everything looks clearer

by sophiahelix



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: 2017-2018 Season, Getting Together, Injury Recovery, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-16 13:32:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13054986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sophiahelix/pseuds/sophiahelix
Summary: “Yeah,” Javi says. “Hey, listen. Uh. Do you want to come out for drinks tonight?”Yuzu hesitates, not sure exactly what Javi’s asking. They’ve never done this before, and Javi hasn’t asked him to in a long time. He knows Yuzu’s serious when he's in Toronto, always focusing on work and rest.“I have some friends who get together on Fridays,” Javi says, hurrying on. “Just for drinks. It would be fun, if you wanted to come.”





	In better light everything looks clearer

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kouredios](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kouredios/gifts).



> The initial inspiration for this story was the podcast interview where Brian Orser said he wished Javi would take Yuzu out to dinner sometime and help him learn to relax, though it turned into more of a Yuzu character study. The story timeline is slightly fudged now, since Yuzu didn’t get back on the ice from his injury until very recently. 
> 
> Thanks to alpha reader someitems with the writing of this, and shdwsilk for editing post-completion.
> 
> Happy holidays! <3

It's not snowing yet in Toronto when Yuzu’s plane touches down, but it will be soon. The sky is dull and lead grey, a line of cloud across the horizon, and winter’s not far off. His mother smiles, and touches his knee. She's always relieved when they land safely.

This isn't how he imagined coming back here. His ankle still aches, but not as much as the raw, empty feeling of sitting out the rest of the Grand Prix series. He's never withdrawn from any competition that really mattered before. This is his last Olympic season, though, and everyone on his team agreed; staying healthy meant more than another GP final.

“It's your decision,” Brian said, over the phone, his face blurred by distance. It was late where he was. 

It’s always Yuzu’s decision, and it never is. Sometimes he feels like he's lived a life set out on tracks, not because he's been forced into anything but because the right thing to do has always been so clear. Stay in skating, even when he was a scattered, rambunctious kid, tempted by baseball and goofing off. Come to Canada, where everything was strange, to become the best he could be. Skate when he's tired, skate when he's hurt, skate every day, through everything, always reaching for something more.

“I’ll withdraw,” he told Brian, and everyone else who was listening. 

So now he’s here, facing rehab and retraining, so many decisions to make. The right thing isn’t obvious anymore. Change his choreography, drop the new jumps, skip nationals, or keep to the original plan. Stay here, go back home. He’s doing the best he can, but nothing feels the same. 

“I hope the cleaners have left the heating on,” his mother says, as they begin the bumpy taxi down the runway. “What do you want for dinner?”

Yuzu turns and smiles at her. He’s grateful for her, as always, and that some choices are still simple.

*****

He doesn’t get back on the ice for a week or so. He has to see all the doctors, the orthopedist and the sports medicine expert and finally the physical therapy team, and they have him doing more of the same terrible exercises that he did back home, the ones that make him grimace as the ligaments stretch and heal. They offer him stronger pain medication here, but Yuzu rarely takes it; he wants his head clear, and to feel everything as his body comes back to where it’s supposed to be. 

Yuzu looks at the ice longingly, coming in and out of the club. Javi’s back from France now, and he’s training hard on the free program that’s been so messy every time. They practiced separately for a lot of the summer, so Yuzu’s not as familiar with Javi’s routines as he usually is, but he’s not sure about this one yet. He doesn’t think Javi is either, to be honest.

The short is good. He tells Javi so, one afternoon when they meet in the lunch room, him finishing up a PT session and Javi fresh from practice.

“Thanks,” Javi says, brushing his shower-wet hair back as he opens up his sandwich wrapper. “It felt good, in France.” He smiles, a little sly. “I got the highest short program score in the whole Grand Prix, you know.”

“But not world record score,” Yuzu points out. Maybe unfair, but not untrue.

Javi looks at him, blinking, and Yuzu feels heat rush into his face. He feels like an idiot, bringing up Montreal. They haven’t talked about it, but he thought things were fine.

And maybe they are. Javi blinks again and looks away, biting into his sandwich. He chews and swallows, then quirks another smile. “Well, your free program in Russia, that was the highest score too.”

He takes out his phone, and Yuzu returns to the lunch his mother packed for him. The rice is perfect, like always, but today it feels dry in his mouth.

*****

They've never talked about what happened in September. The Autumn Classic in Montreal was a weird competition, the tiny arena filled to the rafters with fans waving Japanese flags, and the pure power he felt doing his short program. Everything went perfectly, another record for the books, and then it fell apart the next day. His knee had been bothering him, so he’d taken out the new quad lutz, but the rest of the program seemed to collapse with the change, loose and unanchored. It was still good enough for him to skid into second place — this was just a Challenger comp, after all — and he smiled for the fans from home and ground his teeth silently after.

Javi’s programs were early season-sloppy too, but he looked just as pleased and gracious standing on top of the podium as always. They’d hardly seen each other in weeks, training separately most of the summer and focusing on their own work, but here it felt like the clock had turned back, things as open and friendly as their early days together. It’d been years since they’d both been at a competition like this, big fish in a small pond, the stakes low, and everything was easy and uncomplicated. 

Yuzu still wanted to win, back then. He still wanted to win now.

“Have another drink,” Javi kept saying to him at the hotel bar that night, shouting over the noise of other skaters. Yuzu rolled his eyes and drank a few sips from the glass Javi pushed across the table, just to be polite. Drinking’s not really his thing, but the competition was over and his mother had gone back to her room with a headache, and it fit the mood of the weekend, keyed up and a little off-balance. It relaxed him, too, and he finished the first drink and had another.

He wasn’t drunk when he went upstairs later, just giddy, not ready for the evening to end. Javi laughed at him and invited him in — “Come on, I don’t want you to go back and watch film alone” — like he’d done at competitions for years. Yuzu had never said yes before, but that night he did. 

Someone had sent Javi a bottle of Canadian whiskey to celebrate his win and Yuzu had some of that too, just a splash in the bottom of a hotel glass. He was still on edge somehow, staring down into a pit of potential recklessness, unknown things he wasn’t sure he was quite ready to do. A splash of whiskey seemed like a good first step. 

They were going to watch a movie. He remembers that. 

But then Javi brushed past him, wearing a worn grey t-shirt so thin that Yuzu could see the strong muscles of his chest through it, and it was like the feeling of learning a jump, when all the small things he’d learned and practiced came together into something entirely new, parts coalescing into a whole. Javi’s body looked good, lean defined muscle everywhere, and he smelled like cologne and his brown eyes were warm and bright as he glanced over at Yuzu.

“OK?” Javi asked.

Yuzu reached out and put his hands against Javi’s shoulders, fingers curling into his t-shirt, holding him in place. Javi opened his mouth a little, and his gaze flicked over Yuzu’s face, but he stepped in closer, hands coming to rest on Yuzu’s waist.

“OK?” Javi asked again, softer.

He took his time, kissing Yuzu. Hot and physical, nuzzling at Yuzu’s lower lip, tongue stroking in. Thorough and deliberate, caressing Yuzu’s hips. He moved easy but sure as they did it, first making out in the middle of the room, then lying down on the bed together. Yuzu rolled over and pulled Javi half on top of him, chasing his mouth, taking what he never knew he wanted until that moment.

They got off like that, still kissing, hands down each other's pants. Javi smiled afterwards, closing his eyes, and then he was asleep, snoring like Yuzu had heard him do on the bus fifty times before. Yuzu lay where he was, breathing hard, feeling his blood cool down as his mind cleared, thoughts coming in sharp and precise. He didn’t know quite how this had happened, and he didn’t know what they would say when Javi woke up, or how any of this fit into their routine, their carefully scheduled interconnected lives. 

Maybe it didn’t have to, Yuzu thought, and sat up, cautious. Javi didn’t stir as he left.

It was fine, the next day. Down in the hotel lobby he walked by Javi checking out at the desk, wearing sunglasses. Javi smiled and nodded when he saw Yuzu, then turned back to hand over his credit card. He and Brian were on a different flight, and Yuzu spent his own short flight home talking to his mother about a magazine article she’d read and looking out the window, trying to forget Javi’s hands on him. The way Javi touched him, the way Javi kissed him, the way Javi pulled him in with an arm around his waist, keeping him close. It had been less than a day and it was already hard to believe it’d really happened.

He’d wanted Javi before, from time to time, a thought wandering through his mind before leaving again. He’d never wanted to be wanted by Javi like this.

In Toronto it was back to the same schedule, training separately, and then Russia, and then home. Then the injury. 

And now he’s here, starting from scratch, beginning the season again; training, rehabbing like he was last year. His body is an imperfect tool, never quite obedient. There’s always the work.

But there’s also a memory of Javi above him in bed, leaning away to catch a breath. Eyes half-closed, mouth full and soft, the glowing yellow light behind him. Yuzu’s cheeks and lips tingled from brushing against his short beard as they kissed, and Javi’s weight on his chest was warm and solid. 

Neither of them said anything. Javi had swallowed, and leaned in again, and Yuzu thought, _yes_.

*****

He gets back on the ice. His programs are challenging in a familiar way, old battles he’s won before. He leaves the lutz out, for now. He knows Brian wishes he’d never added it, and he doesn’t want to argue about it again. For now he leaves it an open question, at least on the surface, because he knows he’s not going to the Olympics without it.

They go a few days the way they did in the offseason, slotting him and Javi in for practice time like staggered tiles, Javi training sometimes at the other rink Brian found for them, and then Brian catches Yuzu’s elbow after practice one day as he’s about to walk off the ice. 

“I have a question for you,” Brian says. 

Yuzu looks around them. Tracy’s already down at the other end of the rink, working with someone else, and other skaters go whizzing by, as Gabby’s short program music starts. Brian sounds serious.

“Yes?” Yuzu asks, bobbing his head in a nod.

“We set up the practice schedule the way we did last summer because it was better for Javi,” Brian says. “I know it doesn’t matter to you. Now…I think it might be better if you practiced together again.”

Yuzu blinks at him. “Better for who?”

Brian smiles. “Better for both of you. For him especially. It’s been a rough season.”

 _It’s been a rough season for_ me, _too_ , Yuzu thinks. 

But Brian’s right, it doesn’t really make a difference to him how they practice now. Years ago, when he first started here, it was with the idea of keeping Javi right in front of him; his number one rival, even if neither of their results showed that yet. He was proven right soon enough, in the years when they traded titles between them, Brian grinning ear to ear at every competition.

He doesn’t need Javi in front of him anymore, and Brian knows that. It was Javi who needed more space, and Yuzu’s tried to be gracious about it, the way Javi has been every time it’s him on top of the podium instead of Yuzu. He’s not sure what’s changed from this summer.

“Better for you too, right?” Yuzu asks, squinting a little. “You stay in one place.”

Brian smiles wider. “I want us all to have a good season. Maybe we should try things the way we used to do them.”

Yuzu nods. “OK.”

Javi’s already on the ice when Yuzu arrives at the rink the next day. That’s unusual enough, for Javi to be early, and Yuzu hides a private smile, thinking maybe Javi wants to impress him and Brian both. Prove he’s not the same as before; showing up late after missing his bus, coffee in hand. That inner mirth fades, though, when Yuzu thinks — maybe it’s Javi who needs to be motivated by seeing a rival in front of him now.

Practice goes fine. Brian seems more relaxed than he has in months, moving between them with advice and corrections. Yuzu doesn’t really listen to what he’s saying to Javi, busy with his own adjustments and trying to perfect his short program. The free is a battle he’s still working up to.

It’s already getting dark when they finish, the late fall twilight fading fast. Yuzu stays on the ice a little longer, practicing a spin, more for the pleasure of the movement than any other reason. When he finishes, blades slicing sharply to bring himself to a stop, he sees Javi still on the edge of the rink, one foot on the step, watching him with a smile. 

“That was nice,” Javi says. “Two GOE for sure.”

Yuzu makes a face. “Not three?”

Javi laughs. “It always has to be the best, doesn’t it? Three, maybe. Come on.” He beckons to Yuzu, waving his arm. “Your mother is probably waiting for you.”

Yuzu watches him a little more closely, next day at practice. Javi’s still working on his free program, tightening up his jumps and building his stamina. The Spanish nationals are earlier, and though his Olympic selection is just as much a foregone conclusion as Yuzu’s, he clearly still wants to do well, prove himself again. Yuzu knows the feeling.

Yuzu’s the one who waits, this time. Javi begins to skate off, and Yuzu calls to him, “It’s your free leg, on the sal.”

Javi stops, head jerking up. “You're giving me advice about my salchow?”

He sounds light but a little disbelieving. The sal is his jump. Yuzu forges on. “You know how to do it right. You’re just…not.”

Javi looks at him a moment longer, and then nods. “OK. Thanks.” He turns to skate in Yuzu’s direction, coming off the ice, and his expression relaxes. He’s always been good at turning things off; practice, competition, losses. “How’s your ankle feeling?” he asks when he gets close.

“Better,” Yuzu says. He shrugs. “Not great. Something always hurt.”

“Yeah,” Javi says. “Hey, listen. Uh. Do you want to come out for drinks tonight?”

Yuzu hesitates, not sure exactly what Javi’s asking. They’ve never done this before, and Javi hasn’t asked him to in a long time. He knows Yuzu’s serious when he's in Toronto, always focusing on work and rest.

“I have some friends who get together on Fridays,” Javi says, hurrying on. “Just for drinks. It would be fun, if you wanted to come.”

This is like Montreal, like the hotel hallway when Javi asked him almost the same thing. Back then they were tipsy and happy, a no-stakes competition under their belts and the whole season spreading fresh before them. Yuzu remembers, though, the unease of that moment, the sense that there was something reckless and dangerous underneath, so easy to put a foot wrong. He made the leap anyway.

And he remembers Javi kissing his neck, beard tickling his tender skin and Javi’s lips so warm, laughing against his jaw.

Yuzu makes the leap again. “OK. I come out tonight.”

Javi smiles, his big cheerful grin, maybe a little relieved. “Great! I’m glad that you’re coming, it'll be fun.” He pauses, frowning. “I usually go from the rink. Do you need to go home first, or is your mother…”

“I can come now,” Yuzu says, quickly. “I call her.”

Javi nods again. “Good. Well.” He looks over his shoulder, at the big clock on the wall. “I’ll meet you in the lobby soon?” He steps up off the ice, reaching for his blade protectors on the ground. 

Yuzu watches him head to the showers, feeling like he just made a choice, something bigger than just going out on a Friday night or even blowing his mother off for dinner. He doesn’t really think what happened in Montreal will happen again, and he’s not sure it should, either. This season means everything, to both of them. But there’s something in him that feels like it’s stretching, uncoiling, taking up space. Something that needs more than he’s ever given it, in all the years of focusing on career and his family. He’s not sure how to let it be, without letting it be everything, but it feels like he can’t go any longer without trying.

*****

Getting to the bar where Javi’s meeting his friends takes a bus ride and a train ride, heading into the college annex downtown. Yuzu watches the stops go by and runs over the TTC map in his head, trying to think of how he’ll get back tonight. Maybe a cab, if it’s late enough. 

He doesn’t want to call his mother out here, for a lot of reasons. He wants to be able to handle this on his own, an evening out and getting home too, and he wants it to be something he does by himself, his separate space. It might be a mistake, but he wants it to be his own.

His mother wasn’t angry on the phone, just surprised. “What time will you be home?” she asked, and made a humming noise when Yuzu said he didn’t know. “Don’t wait up,” he said, and she made that noise again. 

It’s strange to think that he’s never been on the subway with Javi before, in all their years here. Now they’re sitting comfortably in a pair of seats, Javi on the aisle, and Yuzu likes the warmth of him so close, boxing him in. He's always felt safe and comfortable around Javi, because that’s just how Javi is.

Yuzu leans over, looking at his screen. “What’s so interesting on your phone?”

Javi smiles, angling it away a little. “It’s just a silly game. I’m trying to get a better score.”

“Let me see,” Yuzu says. “Oh, I play this. Your score… _bad_.”

Javi elbows him, quick and low. “I haven’t been playing it very long.”

They go the last couple of stops with Yuzu trying to get his hands on the phone and Javi holding it away, high above the aisle, one hand grasping Yuzu’s wrist to keep him back. They’re both laughing, but it’s serious somehow too, and when they reach their stop Javi springs into the aisle, tucking his phone in his coat pocket. 

“Too slow,” he says, turning around and waggling his finger as Yuzu gets up. “It helps to be taller.”

“My arms longer,” Yuzu says, and follows him out of the train and up the station steps, still half-heartedly trying to get the phone from Javi’s pocket.

It’s chilly outside in the dark street, their breath coming out in white puffs. Javi’s flushed and still laughing, fighting Yuzu off, and he finally drops an arm over Yuzu’s shoulders, hugging him close and pulling him away from the flow of foot traffic. 

“See, it’s good for you to do something besides train and study and sleep,” Javi says. “Let’s get you a drink.”

He steers Yuzu down the block and to a set of basement stairs, leading to a brewpub one story below a fancier bar. It’s warm and loud inside when Javi opens the door, noise and light spilling out, and Yuzu drops back, letting Javi find his friends at a booth in the back.

“Hey guys,” Javi says, gesturing, as the other people make room. “This is Yuzu. We train together.”

Yuzu sees nodding heads, smiles, maybe recognition. Not for himself, but probably just because Javi’s mentioned him before. Javi slides into the booth and Yuzu gets in next to him, sitting on the outside.

It’s too loud to really talk, especially in a language he’s not really comfortable in. When the server comes, Yuzu frowns at the menu and orders fried fish with a salad on the side, trying to approximate the nutrition he would’ve been getting at home. Javi’s shouting down the table to a couple of guys who look like students, and the girl across the table from Yuzu smiles and asks a few questions he manages to answer before she nods and turns to the person next to her. 

Yuzu eats his dinner while everyone else drinks, Javi downing a plate of nachos along with his beers. There’s music playing and some people leave to dance. As the booth empties out Yuzu relaxes a little, pushing away his empty plate and taking a long swallow of water.

Javi turns to him, smiling a little apologetically. “Sorry. Usually, not so many people come. We should go out on a more quiet night, like a Tuesday.”

“It’s OK,” Yuzu says, shaking his head, and he’s surprised to find it is. His routines are all off and he’ll oversleep tomorrow, but he likes the warmth of the bar and the conversation flowing around him. He’s not quite part of it, but it feels good to be here, in this other world.

“How…” he starts, and thinks. “You meet these people here?”

“Not in this bar, but yeah, around,” Javi says. He shrugs. “The student bars, they’re good places to meet people. I just like talking, you know, having a good time.”

Yuzu grins. “Yeah, I know you like talking.”

That makes Javi grin back, raising a hand to rub the back of his neck. “Is everything OK? Do you need a drink? More food?”

Yuzu shakes his head. “I’m fine.”

“That’s good,” Javi says, nodding. He lifts his beer, draining it, and then reaches out to rest his hand on Yuzu’s shoulder. “I'm really glad you came. I’m going to get another drink.”

Yuzu gets out of the booth so Javi can move past him, then sits back down again, turning his head to watch him go. Javi looks nice in a zip-up pullover sweater and tight jeans, weaving between people on the bar floor. Yuzu takes another sip of his water, then glances up to see the girl across the table looking at him.

She smiles again. “Have you and Javi been training together a long time?”

“Yeah, about…” Yuzu thinks. “Five years.”

She just nods, still smiling.

When Javi comes back with another beer, Yuzu makes up his mind. He gets up to let Javi into the booth, and then stays standing, leaning down with a hand on the table.

“I thinking, I going home now,” he says.

Javi makes a groan of disapproval. “No! It’s still early, you should stay.”

Yuzu shakes his head. “I’m tired. Next time, maybe not skate so hard first.”

He sees Javi’s eyes brighten. “Of course. Next time.” Javi pauses a moment, then gets out of the booth, opening his arms to hug Yuzu. “Next time, we’ll go somewhere more quiet,” Javi says, against his ear. “Maybe just us.”

Yuzu’s heart shouldn't jump at that, because that’s not what tonight was about. He wanted to reconnect with Javi, smoothing over the roughness of training apart last summer, of whatever madness happened in Montreal, and reclaim the easy camaraderie that sustained them in their early years together. More than that, he wanted to do something new, carve out some space. Do something just a little impulsive, a little reckless, without bringing the world down on himself. 

But Javi’s arms feel so good around him, and his touch is never going to feel the way it used to, like a warm friend or older brother. Everything’s changed, and Yuzu knows enough to know he should be stepping away, not chasing this.

He hugs Javi tighter, though, holding on. “Next time,” he says, into Javi’s shoulder.

Yuzu navigates taking the train all the way home. His mother’s bedroom light is still on when he opens the door, quietly as he can. It clicks off, though, as he crosses the living room, and he feels a little chagrined but glad, too. It’s nice to know there's still always someone looking out for him.

*****

 _Next time_ is a few days later, a Tuesday night like Javi said. A different bar, quieter, with food Yuzu likes better. They eat across from each other, talking a little, smiling more. Javi’s foot touches his under the table, and stays there. 

“Did you have fun?” his mother asks when he gets home. “Yeah,” Yuzu says, and goes into his room to study.

He watches Javi at practice a little more, analyzing the layout of his free program. He knows why Javi front-loads his quads, and it’s true the program flows better once they're out of the way and Javi can focus on the choreography and the character. He’s always loved acting on the ice, maybe even more than the skating, Yuzu thinks. It’s just another way they’re different, but not a bad thing.

He’s never liked Javi’s triple axel, though, and he has to bite his tongue about it every day. Nobody wants to hear about axels from him. Which isn’t fair; Yuzu’s good at them, but it’s not like he didn’t work to get there.

The next week, he asks Javi if he wants to go out after practice, and Javi’s face lights up, surprised and pleased. He always shows everything he's feeling, so open and genuine. They go back to the same bar as last time, and sit in the same dim back booth. After dinner, Yuzu gets up to go to the restroom, and when he gets back he slides into the same side of the booth as Javi.

“Hey,” Javi says, looking happy to have him close. He puts an arm over Yuzu’s shoulders, pulling him closer. “Look at this video, it's crazy.”

They watch videos on Javi’s phone for a little while, or they pretend to, because Yuzu’s breath is getting faster and he thinks Javi’s is too. Prickling warmth on his neck, pulse speeding up, aware of Javi’s hip and thigh pressed against his, arm still resting around him. This used to be casual, natural, but not anymore.

Yuzu finally puts a hand on Javi’s knee, under the table. He turns his his head, leaning in, and brushes his lips against Javi’s cheek. 

Neither of them move, for a minute. Yuzu can feel short afternoon stubble and smell fresh clean aftershave, and there’s the warm movement as Javi swallows, jaw working. Yuzu’s alert, tensed all over, his heart pounding in his chest. He strokes his thumb across the top of Javi’s leg, denim rasping under it, and Javi takes in a deep breath through his nose and then turns to kiss him back.

This isn’t like Montreal, blurred by the edge of whiskey, both of them moving fast and sure. Now it’s sweet but tentative, closed-mouth kisses, tasting each other. Javi keeps pressing kisses to Yuzu’s mouth and then moving away a little, and Yuzu keeps thinking each time will be the last but Javi always comes back. He finally brings up his other hand, cupping Yuzu’s face, and kisses him long and lingering, holding him still.

Then Javi turns, clearing his throat. “I remembered another video that’s funny,” he says, low and raspy, and looks back down at his phone again.

Yuzu catches his breath, looking at Javi. There’s a flush on Javi’s cheek, and he keeps licking his lips. He doesn’t take his arm off Yuzu’s shoulders.

Later, they walk to the train station together, not talking much. Javi’s going in a different direction, and down in the bright sodium lights of the station, the hazy closeness of the bar seems to melt away. They go through the turnstile, and Yuzu raises a hand, about to head in the direction of his train. Javi reaches out and takes hold of his other hand, tugging him in a step.

Yuzu’s heart lurches, because he doesn’t think he has the words for this, not ever and certainly not now. It’s like something he can only do if he shuts his eyes and doesn’t think about it while it’s happening. But Javi only smiles, squeezing Yuzu’s gloved hand. 

“Sleep well,” he says. “Cariño.”

Yuzu squeezes back. “I see you tomorrow,” he says, and then pulls away.

He doesn’t know what he’s doing, for the first time since he can remember. Following his instinct, or maybe just his desire. He thinks about it all the way home; how he went so many years admiring Javi, loving the warmth of his presence and their friendship, without ever feeling this irresistible need for more.

His mother’s watching something on her laptop when he comes through the door. That’s usually what she does in the evenings, or reads, and it eases his conscience a little to know he isn’t really abandoning her. If he were home he’d be studying or watching film or going through visualizations again, working in his own head like usual. It’s the way they’ve always been.

Still, it feels like he’s hiding something, having this separate part of his life. There’s never been anything he couldn’t talk to her about before.

Javi smiles brightly at him at practice the next day, coming in a little late. He’s been letting it slip, since those first few days, and Yuzu’s amused to think Javi really was trying to impress him. There’s a hesitant moment, when he remembers that morning in Montreal, waving at Javi across the hotel lobby and not coming any closer, but he doesn’t want to let the distance grow again. There’s danger here, and unknown things, but Yuzu can’t stay away.

He glides across the ice to Javi when he’s finally got his skates on, Tracy tapping an imaginary watch as Javi steps down from the carpet.

“Did you not sleep good?” Yuzu asks, teasing.

“I slept _well_ ,” Javi says, rolling his eyes. “My bus is always late.”

“Mmhm,” Yuzu says, and flashes a grin before skating away.

After that they’re both in their own worlds, training hard, like it used to be. Javi leaves for Spain in a few days and he’s working on the free program. Yuzu’s working on his own, but he sees Javi land jump after jump, so much cleaner than either of his Grand Prix events this season. Maybe he’s getting over the roughness of the last year.

After practice, Yuzu’s in the changing room when Javi comes in, re-lacing his skates before he puts them away. Javi’s flushed and sweaty, practice clothes clinging to him, and Yuzu looks up, gaze following him across the room.

“Hey,” Javi says. He smiles, happy and uncomplicated. “So, tonight…”

Yuzu shakes his head and licks his lips, readying the words he prepared. “I have schoolwork, at home. And other things. And you leaving, Saturday? I thinking, we go to dinner when you get back.” He pauses. “If you want.”

Javi’s shoulders sag a little, or maybe they’re relaxing. Javi nods. “OK. That sounds good to me.” 

He smiles once more and reaches out to squeeze Yuzu’s shoulder as he walks by. He strips off his shirt as he goes to the showers, and Yuzu watches him all the way. 

*****

Javi’s gone until after Christmas and Yuzu thinks maybe things will have changed by the time he gets back. Maybe this sudden flame will have dwindled back to the warm glow their friendship used to be, close but casual. Maybe this was just something they needed to help them both through a difficult time, their own bodies working hard against them.

But Javi’s free program in Spain is a disaster again, and Yuzu tries the quad lutz while Brian is gone, and if it’s not a disaster it’s still nowhere near where it needs to be. He barely sticks the landing, ankle twinging as he wobbles and flails, and Javi takes gold but it’s meaningless as always, with no real competition. The hard times aren’t over yet.

Yuzu catches up on schoolwork and eats dinner with his mother every night. The old routine feels good, but he doesn’t think he’s focusing any better at the rink than he was before, when Javi was here. He’s not sleeping well either, thinking of his own nationals at the end of the month. It’s still an open question whether he’ll be in condition to go.

Brian comes back the next week, and he watches Yuzu go through both his programs, one hand on his face, finger pointing up his cheek, and his other arm across his body, hand tucked in. Yuzu doesn’t even do the quad lutz, but he falls twice, and he’s panting by the time he finishes, leaning over to rest his hands on his thighs.

“How do you feel?” Brian asks, when Yuzu looks up. “Not just your ankle. All of you.”

“Tired,” Yuzu admits. “And — ankle, not so good.”

He gets the feeling Brian knows he’s been jumping the lutz, but he just says, “Well, I think you should talk to your team. You don’t have to go, you know. Your Olympic spot’s safe.”

“I know,” Yuzu says.

He gets that feeling again, like he wants to be reckless, make an impulsive choice just for the sake of making it. He’s so tired of waiting and seeing, everything always up in the air. He just wants the question to be settled, regardless of the outcome.

He bites his tongue, though, and talks to his team, doctors and therapists and Kikuchi-sensei too. Everyone says the same things, that it depends on this or that, and finally he asks his mother.

“Do you want to go?” she asks.

“Of course,” Yuzu says. 

“Do you think it’ll help your chances at the Olympics? Or hurt them?”

“I don’t know,” Yuzu admits. “I’ll be on the team either way. I just want to compete again. I hate sitting at home.”

“I know,” his mother says. “And you don’t want to disappoint fans.”

He’s already missed NHK, and the final in Nagoya. It makes him feel sick, letting down the people who counted on seeing him skate at home this year. It seems like a betrayal, when he relies on their support so much, not to give back as much as he can.

The next day at the rink, Brian asks when Yuzu comes in. “Have you made up your mind? I don't want to push, but we have to make plans either way.”

Yuzu thinks about skating in Japan again. The loving crowds, but also the expectations. Media, the competition. The lutz that still isn’t ready. Pyeongchang, hardly two months away.

“I thinking, I stay here,” he says, slowly. “I’ll withdraw.”

Brian looks at him for a long moment, and it’s hard to know what he’s thinking. “OK,” he says, and his soft voice is gentle. “It’s your decision.”

Yuzu nods, and turns away abruptly, going down the hall to the restrooms. He can feel the tears already, blurring his vision, and he just wants to be alone for this moment. He’s made his decision, and he doesn’t want to take it back, but he hates this feeling, like anything he chose would somehow be wrong no matter what.

*****

Javi comes back, right before New Year’s, and they go to dinner, picking up where they left off. They smile at each other on the train all the way there, and before they go inside the bar they kiss in the alleyway outside, their breath steaming in the snowy air.

Toronto’s so different from Japan, in good and bad ways, but the anonymity is the biggest positive here. The sky is dark and they’re half-hidden down a side street, but Yuzu still can’t imagine doing this in public back home, letting someone kiss him up against a wall.

It’s less tentative than last time, but just as sweet, the way Javi touches his face. Yuzu curls his gloved hands in Javi’s scarf and coat and pulls him in, getting up on his toes to kiss him deeply. The wall at his back feels good, holding him up, and he likes the way Javi presses him against it, leaning in.

“I’m sorry that you had to miss your nationals,” Javi whispers, between kisses.

Yuzu doesn’t say anything, just tugs him into another kiss.

The tip of Javi’s nose is cold against his cheek, but Javi’s mouth is so warm against his. Yuzu lets him push his tongue in, lets Javi angle his head with his hands, thumbs on his jaw. This is what he wanted, for Javi to want him like this.

Eventually their caresses slow, the early winter chill going through both of them, making them shiver. They stand where they are for a minute, though, hands still on each other, just looking. Javi’s woolen hat is crooked and Yuzu smiles, reaching up to pull it straight. “You want eat dinner now?”

Javi doesn’t say anything. His expression turns fond, and a little wondering, too. 

“What?” Yuzu asks, finally.

Now Javi smiles. “You have snowflakes in your eyelashes,” he says, and tips up his chin, brushing his lips against Yuzu’s closed eyes.

Yuzu holds his breath, feeling Javi’s warmth and nearness. He thought maybe he was learning to need this less, while Javi was away, but instead it seems like it’s already a familiar part of his life. Like it was always there between them, just waiting for the right moment.

He kisses Javi’s cheek. “Let’s eat.”

They take things slow, and they don’t talk about it. They have dinner again, later that week, and they sit on the same side of the booth, holding hands. Javi asks him to a New Year’s party but Yuzu says no, spending the evening with his mother instead. They’d planned to be back in Japan by now, before he needed so much rehab time with the team here, and he knows it’s hard on her to be away during a holiday. They have dinner at home and call the family at midnight Toronto time, everyone talking over each other on the video chat.

“We got your New Year’s postcards,” his sister says, waving one. “Did you get ours?”

His mother nods. “They’re on the fridge.”

“I tried to make mochi, but it’s not as good as yours,” Saya says. 

“I’ll make more when we get home,” his mother says. “All your favorites.”

“I’m sorry we’ve had to stay here so long,” Yuzu says, dropping his head. “I want to do my best but I know it’s difficult for everyone.”

“Work hard,” his father says. “Nothing matters as long as you’re doing your best.”

In January, Javi asks him over for dinner at his house. They kiss in the kitchen, and later in the living room, Yuzu’s leg thrown over Javi’s lap and his body tilted back against the arm of the arm of the couch. Javi leans in, one hand just under the hem of Yuzu’s shirt, thumb tucked beneath his waistband and stroking his hip.

Practice gets harder for both of them. Javi’s planning on defending his title at Euros and Yuzu’s trying the quad lutz, Brian frowning at him silently all the while. He isn’t going to Four Continents, and everything’s focused on Korea now, the days counting down in his head like falling water drops, each one full and complete. 

He goes to Javi’s for dinner again, and they make it into the bedroom this time. It’s still just kissing, though, getting lost and dizzy with the hot sensation of their bodies moving together, Javi above him. He loves touching Javi this way, fingers moving over his face and throat, into the softness of his short hair. Yuzu slips a hand under Javi’s shirt and strokes his lower back, up to his strong shoulders, but it doesn’t go farther than that and Javi doesn’t push. They just keep kissing each other, like they’re very young, like that’s all there is in the world.

It’s been a while for Yuzu, in truth. Hooking up has always been a road thing, an ice show thing, sometimes a competition thing when he was younger, before his career took off. He likes skaters, and it’s always felt more comfortable that way, quick easy connections in his own familiar world. Kisses backstage, or rushed sex in someone’s hotel room, before a coach or roommate came back. People he knew and trusted, but no one he saw regularly.

This is different to that, the danger and the closeness. Everything could go so wrong, or so right. It’s something he’s never wanted before, with Javi or anyone else, and he’s letting it bloom slowly, until he grasps the full measure of it. 

“You can stay here tonight, if you want,” Javi says, kissing his ear delicately, thoroughly. “On the couch, or…”

Yuzu groans. It’s getting late, and sleeping here sounds really good. “I have to go,” he says, though. “Maybe another time.”

“OK,” Javi says, kissing him again.

It’s cold outside, when the cab picks him up. It’s cold in the car, too, and Yuzu shivers all the way home. He tries not to think of where he could be right now, warm and comfortable on Javi’s couch, or even warmer in Javi’s bed. 

His mother’s light is still on when he gets in. Yuzu thinks about knocking on it, but he doesn’t want to wake her if maybe she’s fallen asleep. He goes into his own room instead, and the light shuts off as he passes by.

*****

A week later he and Javi end up at morning practice on their own. Tracy’s having car trouble, and Brian had a doctor’s appointment, and so they have the rink to themselves for an hour or so, before more skaters have it booked. 

They’re both supposed to be doing run-throughs today. Yuzu queues up the familiar music, alternating between their programs, sighing internally. One drawback to training with other skaters is getting as tired of their music as his own. He puts on Don Quixote first, but Javi keeps practicing jumps in the corner, instead of starting his routine.

The music continues, moving from guitar to brassy horns to the quieter section, and Yuzu gets a sudden impulse, grinning to himself. He skates out to center ice and bobs his head for a few beats, picking up the thread, before starting the second half of the program.

It takes Javi a while to notice what he's doing, but then Yuzu sees his head swivel over, and he stops where he is, watching. Yuzu doesn’t have all the choreography right, but he’s hitting the jumps in time, and it feels good to do something new. He can see why Javi likes skating to these songs; they're simple and bright, and the program is fun. He stumbles a little on the three jump pass late in the routine, but he knows his axels are solid, and when he finishes up the last combo spin he's smiling.

Javi isn't smiling, when Yuzu looks over at him, breathing hard. He’s got a strange expression, fixed but blank, like he's thinking about something. Yuzu’s music starts next, and Yuzu skates over to where the iPod is plugged in, pausing the track so he can catch his breath.

When he turns around, Javi is skating across the rink, leaping into a triple lutz on the right hand side. He turns back and goes straight into a flying sit spin, changing heights and arm positions, and by the time he stands up, opening his arms, Yuzu’s heart is in his throat because he knows what's coming next.

Javi dances across the ice, moving through the last step sequence of Yuzu’s Seimei program. He spins and glides, upright and precise, making the steps his own, and Yuzu holds his breath as Javi even crouches down into a slow hydroblade, leg not fully extended but good enough. He reaches the other side of the rink and loops back, leaning into a graceful Ina Bauer and then moving into the final combination spin. His face is serious and challenging when he comes to a stop, and Yuzu can hear the heavy drum beat in his head as Javi throws his arms open.

For a moment, the rink is silent. They look at each other across the ice, both still breathing hard, and Yuzu feels like they're really seeing each other, for the first time in a long while. Competitors and training mates, friends and now something more, something neither of them is ready to define. There's always been this tension between them, this competition for everything — medals and fame, Brian’s attention and Tracy’s patience, ice time and solitude — but they've made it work, putting in the effort to be part of a team.

It takes more effort, now. It's that or skate separately, like this summer, drifting apart as Javi’s career comes to a close and Yuzu’s reaches what he hopes is the zenith. He thinks, suddenly, that this is the most complicated relationship in his life, and maybe that's what makes it so important. That Javi’s worth the work to stay.

“That was beautiful,” Yuzu says, and he means it.

Javi smiles, reaching for the back of his neck, and it's like the sunlight goes brighter, filtering through the high windows above them. “Yours too. Nice axels.” He clears his throat. “I don't know why we put two of them in, it's a bitch to skate.”

Yuzu laughs, surprised. “Come on. We should skate our own programs, before Tracy come and yell.”

They're done earlier than usual, with a morning session. Brian’s been moving them back, getting them used to it before the insane skate times in Korea. Yuzu was planning to take the train home, not wanting to disrupt his mother’s routine, and they walk out together. It's a fresh, cold January day, and the sun is bright on the unplowed snow on the far side of the street. Their feet crunch over the icy remains on the parking lot, with satisfying pops. Javi looks over at him.

“Do you have plans for the afternoon?” he asks, quietly.

Yuzu shakes his head.

They go to Javi's place, and Javi takes him to bed. They still go slowly, taking their time, but Yuzu pushes up Javi’s shirt as they kiss, baring his back, and everything happens from there. 

It's nothing like the last time, in Montreal. They get undressed together, under Javi’s striped flannel sheets, and neither of them hesitates. This has been a long time coming. They keep kissing all the while, but Yuzu doesn't feel like he's holding back now. He's made a choice, and he's going to follow through. It's maybe one he’ll have to keep making, and it won't always be easy, but it's what feels right.

Javi catches Yuzu’s gaze as he shifts to lie above him. His eyes are warm and steady, like always, but more serious now. Yuzu knows Javi feels the weight of this just as much as he does. He reaches up, touching Javi's face. 

“OK?” Yuzu asks, softly.

Javi smiles, his expression even more fond than before. “Always, with you,” he says, and then he moves in.

They take their time with this, too. Moving together, working together, letting the heat build between them. Javi keeps pressing his face against Yuzu’s neck, his stubble pleasantly rough, and Yuzu kisses his shoulder, holding him close. Javi rocks against him, groaning quietly, and then shifts up onto his knees.

“God,” he breathes, looking down at Yuzu, and it’s not like before, slow and easy. Now his gaze is possessive, hungry, like he wants everything he sees. He reaches down and takes hold of Yuzu’s legs behind his knees, pulling suddenly so Yuzu’s hips are tilted up.

Yuzu makes a small noise in surprise and reaches above his head, bracing his hands flat. Javi leans in, still holding him up, and moves faster than before, harder. He bites his lip, hips pounding against Yuzu’s body, and Yuzu pushes back against the wall, holding himself steady. 

He closes his eyes when Javi reaches down to touch him, letting out a rough groan. After weeks of slow; months; years; he comes like that, fast and messy, shoulders hunched around his ears, with long desperate gasps as he spills over Javi’s hand. 

“Oh fuck,” Javi mutters, and leans down to put his hands on either side of Yuzu’s head. He shifts into a short, quick rhythm, groaning on every thrust, and then Yuzu feels him come, shaking all over. 

They fall asleep together, this time. It’s getting dark when Yuzu wakes up, and he lies there a while, remembering. He’s lying on his side, Javi close behind him, arm across his middle, and it feels good, safe and still. He doesn’t want to wake Javi, but he can’t stay here forever.

Finally Javi’s breath quickens, and he makes a soft sound, yawning. Yuzu feels his arm go a little tighter, pulling him closer, and then Javi sighs. 

“What are you thinking about?” Javi asks, his voice raspy.

“How you know I’m thinking?”

He hears Javi snort. “You’re quiet. And you're always thinking.”

Now Yuzu sighs. “I’m thinking…Four Continents is next weekend. It’s good idea, not to go, but — I’m sorry for it. And I’m thinking, my mother probably wondering where I am.”

“That’s all?”

“I’m always thinking, quad lutz.”

Javi’s quiet for a minute, though his arm goes tighter again. When he speaks, his voice is lower than before.

“You know, you work really hard. And you’re always hard on yourself.”

“I know,” Yuzu says. “But I need it.”

“I just want to say,” Javi says, and pauses. “You’re good. You’re great. You should be proud of where you are.”

“OK,” Yuzu says, humoring him. “I’m proud.”

“Proud no matter what,” Javi says, insistent. “Even if you fall in your free skate and win an Olympic gold medal anyway.”

Yuzu winces, out of old habit. Sochi. “Ugh.”

Javi laughs. “I just want you to be happy,” he says, squeezing Yuzu again. “You deserve it. Don’t make it so complicated.”

Yuzu bites his lip, over the words he wants to say. _I_ am _complicated._ Javi’s being generous like always, he realizes. Maybe that's why Javi wanted to train apart this summer, thinking of himself for once. Because Yuzu being happy means Javi isn't, or else he’ll have to learn to be satisfied with different things.

And maybe that's what's happening here.

“I want you to be happy, too,” Yuzu says, softly, putting his hand over Javi's, and Javi tucks his face against the back of Yuzu’s head, breathing deep.

Javi lets him use his shower before he goes. They kiss in the living room, sleepy and lingering, Javi’s arm tight around his waist. Yuzu is already getting used to this, falling fast, and it’s almost strange to find himself outside again, walking through the cold to the the car waiting outside.

“Did you have a good time?” his mother asks, when Yuzu gets inside. 

“Yeah,” Yuzu says. He buckles his seatbelt, looking back over his shoulder at Javi’s apartment block as they pull away. He can’t quite see Javi’s lighted-up window from this side, but he looks for it anyway.

“I talked to your sister this morning,” she says. “Her job is very busy, in the new year.”

“That’s good,” Yuzu says, absently, and then an impulse goes through him, white-hot and cold at the same time. He makes the decision, the leap. “Okaa-san.”

His mother glances over as she drives, eyebrows raising at his formal tone. “Yes?”

“I’m going out with Javi.”

“Going out where?” she asks, and then he sees her realize. “Ah.” She nods. “I see. I wondered, all the late nights out.”

“No, that’s wasn’t — ” Yuzu starts, and then stops. Some of it was, and some of it wasn’t, and it’s too hard to explain it now. “Never mind.”

“You’ve known each other a long time,” his mother says. “That’s good. You’re always happy, when you’re around him.”

“Yeah,” Yuzu says. “I am.”

“And he understands your life, skating. That’s good too.”

Yuzu nods, looking out the window, watching the city pass by in the dark. After the initial rush of anxiety, letting his mother into this part of his life, it seems like it’s just going to be another part of their easy flow, settling in. He thinks, there's never been anything he couldn't tell her. His mother has always understood him.

“It will be hard, with the Olympics,” she says. “But you’ve always made things work.”

Yuzu lifts his head, looking back. “I’ve had a lot of help,” he says. “You, everyone. Javi too. I never forget that.”

His mother smiles, still watching the road. “That’s good,” she says.

**Author's Note:**

>  **Post-Olympics note:** Some of the canon is still wrong! Yuzu didn’t start jumping at all until the end of January, and his family did come to Toronto for New Year’s. And of course, he didn’t end up with the quad lutz after all (but it didn’t matter).
> 
> tumblr: sophia-helix

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] In better light everything looks clearer by sophiahelix](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15005504) by [zuihitsu](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zuihitsu/pseuds/zuihitsu)




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